


I'm a Fool for You

by dettiot



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-07
Updated: 2015-07-07
Packaged: 2018-04-08 04:15:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4290480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dettiot/pseuds/dettiot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a Nashville honkytonk, Felicity finally finishes that third beer and Oliver walks the line.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm a Fool for You

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little something for [callistawolf](http://archiveofourown.org/users/callistawolf/pseuds/callistawolf), inspired by that video of Stephen Amell singing O Canada. Thanks to [closer2fine](http://archiveofourown.org/users/closer2fine/pseuds/closer2fine) for the title and summary help.

After six weeks on the road together, Felicity thought they might be tired of each other. That they would be snappish, getting on each other’s nerves. 

That . . . has not been the case. 

Felicity smiled and popped the last hush puppy in her mouth as she looked over towards the bar in this Nashville honkytonk, taking in her boyfriend. 

Oliver was her boyfriend. It made her want to giggle and sigh like a teenager--when she didn’t want to grab him and kiss him as hard as she could. It was still amazing to her, that they had finally figured things out, that they were here with each other, that spending so much time together hadn’t muted the spark between them. 

No, _that_ was working. It was really, really working, Felicity thought to herself as she let her eyes roam over Oliver, going from his shoulders, down his back, and lingering on his ass.

As if he felt her gaze, Oliver glanced over his shoulder at her. He looked down, following the line of her eyes, then looked back up at her and smirked. 

She wasn’t even embarrassed. When he wore those jeans, and wore them really well, he deserved to have his ass ogled. And she was just the woman to do it. So she just gave him a sunny smile and her best attempt at a wink, since it never failed to amuse Oliver how she couldn’t wink.

And seeing the smile break out on Oliver’s face--it was good. It still made her heart pound, knowing that she made him smile like that. 

He turned back to the bar, waiting to get them another round of beers, so Felicity looked up at the stage at the other end of the restaurant, noticing how the staff seemed to be preparing for something. She rested her chin in her hand, feeling full of good fried food, warm from her two previous beers, and happy at being here with Oliver. 

“Here you go,” Oliver said, setting one of the beers down in front of her. He sat down and took a sip, looking at her skeptically. “Are you actually going to drink all that?” 

“Yep! I’m feeling good about it,” she said, lifting the glass and taking a healthy swallow. And then coughing. 

“Uh-huh,” Oliver said, smiling as he rubbed his hand over her back. “Still think I’m going to have three and a half beers tonight.” 

Felicity stuck her tongue out at him and then leaned in to kiss him. She meant it to just be a sassy little peck, but Oliver had different ideas. He immediately slid a hand into her hair, cupping the back of her head as he kissed her back. 

With a sigh, she let the kiss end, resting against him. “Mmmm. I love you, even if you doubt my ability to drink three beers.” 

“Since I’ve yet to see you do it, I don’t know if ‘doubt’ is the right word, Felicity,” Oliver said, draping his arm over her shoulder. 

“Beer is all manly,” she complained. “It’s not like margaritas or daiquiris.” 

Oliver snickered, hiding his face against the side of her head. “Whatever you say.” 

Pouting, Felicity took a sip of her beer this time, looking back at the stage. And now she recognized what they were doing. “Oh, they’re setting up a karaoke machine. I used to do that at MIT.” 

“Yeah?” Oliver asked, looking at her. “I bet you’re good. I’ve heard you humming along with your music while I was training.” 

“I’m okay,” she said, shrugging one shoulder. “I never got booed, at least.” 

They both watched as the staff finished setting up and a call for singers went out. Quite a few people got in line to sign up; it must be a popular activity here, Felicity mused. 

“You gonna sign up?” Oliver asked, nudging her gently. “I’d love to hear you really sing.” 

Because the beer was starting to kick in, she couldn’t help smiling at him cheekily. “Only if you sing, too.” 

He blinked. “What?” 

It was so like his reaction in their first meeting, when she had been grilling him about that laptop, that Felicity couldn’t help giggling. “I’ll sing if you sing.” 

“Oh, no. I don’t sing,” Oliver said, grinning at her a little before he drank some more of his beer. As if he was amused by her even asking. 

Felicity pulled away, frowning at him. “Why not?” 

His face was confused when he looked at her. “What do you mean, why not?”

“I mean, why not? Do you just not like it?” 

“I guess?” Oliver sounded slightly . . . defensive? Definitely defensive. “I mean . . . I’m not really good at it, really.” 

“I knew it!” she said, poking him in the shoulder. “You don’t want to sing because you’re bad at it.” 

He rolled his eyes. “You say that like it’s weird. Who wants to do something they’re bad at?”

“To get better at it!” Felicity insisted. “I mean, you can’t have been, y’know, awesome at your favorite pastime right from the start.” 

“That was different,” Oliver said stubbornly. 

She eyed him for a long moment. There was a sure-fire way to get him to sing tonight. It was just a question of whether she wanted to poke that sleeping bear. And if she was willing to handle the consequences. 

There was no choice to make. 

“I guess you’re right . . . there’s no sense in trying if you know I’m gonna be better.”

Picking up her beer, she took a long sip, not looking at him. But from the way he was tensed against her side, she knew her words had hit home.

“Are you saying I’m scared?”

Lazily, Felicity turned her head and nearly burst out laughing. Because the way his eyes were snapping, the way his lips were pouting . . . he was a little boy who had just been told he couldn’t play with the big kids. 

“No . . . you just know when you’re outmatched. And that’s really good, Oliver,” she said, taking a chance and reaching out to pat his shoulder. 

That seemed to be the final straw, because Oliver set down his beer with a clunk. “C’mon. We’re both signing up.” 

“Are you sure?” she asked sweetly, gazing up at him. 

“Hell, yeah,” he said, grabbing her hand and pulling her to her feet. “We’re gonna sing.” 

And Felicity couldn’t hide her grin as Oliver pulled them up to the stage.

XXX

“All righty, on stage now, Felicity! Where is she?” 

“I’m here!” Felicity said, raising her hand in the air and bouncing to her feet. To Oliver’s amusement and her own pride, Felicity had finished her third beer, so she was feeling loose and ready to sing. 

She turned and kissed Oliver sloppily before she headed to the stage, his words to ‘go get it’ ringing in her ears. 

Given that they were in Nashville, the catalog of available songs had been heavily weighted towards country. But Felicity hadn’t minded--especially when she saw they had plenty of Dolly. So she had decided she might as well put her money where her mouth is and show Oliver just what sort of pipes she had. 

And man, was she drunk. 

Grinning, Felicity accepted the MC’s help up onto the stage, then took the microphone from him. She nodded to the guy who was running the karaoke machine, waiting for the screen to display the words. And then, she looked out at the crowd and started singing. 

“Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jooooolene,” she sang, going to town on the classic. From the way Oliver’s mouth had dropped open, he was definitely surprised. And hopefully not feeling like she was sending him some kind of message about being insecure towards Laurel. 

The crowd, which had been welcoming towards even the worst singers, were wildly enthusiastic. By the time she reached the second chorus, they were singing along with her, making Felicity grin widely as she finished up the song. 

Applause filled the air and she did a clumsy curtsey, her skirt fluttering a little, before handing over the mike and hopping off the stage, dashing over to Oliver. “Yeah!” she cheered, throwing her arms around him and hugging him. “That was awesome.” 

He was slow to hug her back, even when she plopped down on his lap. When she pulled back, she frowned at the expression on his face. “Oliver?” 

“You--you’re really good,” he said, sounding a bit dazed. 

Felicity smiled at him. “Thank you!” She kissed him, but pulled back after a moment when he didn’t respond. 

“I mean, you’re _really_ good,” he repeated, his face pale. 

“It’s just karaoke, Oliver,” she said, rubbing his arms. “It’s just for fun.” 

His lips pressed together and he looked everywhere but at her. His hands clenched at her hips and Felicity’s heart went out to him. 

“How about I get you another beer?” she asked, lightly kissing the tip of his nose in the hopes of making him smile. 

He nodded jerkily. “Okay.” 

“Hey,” she said, cupping his face in her hands. “This is supposed to be fun. I mean, I know it’s not the kind of fun you used to have--”

“Every minute I’m with you is fun,” he interrupted, making Felicity melt into a puddle. 

“Good answer,” she said with a smile, leaning in to kiss him softly. 

This time, he kissed her back, his hands gently massaging her hips. “Good enough that I don’t have to do this?” he mumbled against her lips. 

“Maybe,” she said, pulling away and getting to her feet, even though her knees felt kind of weak. “Answer that after I get you that beer.” 

As she walked up to the bar, Felicity smiled to herself. To think, this was the same man who once told her, plainly and matter-of-factly, that he put the fear of God into people to make them talk. And here he was, nervous about singing. 

God, she loved him so much. 

XXX

It didn’t take much longer for Oliver’s name to be called . . . but it was enough time that he had drank the beer she got him, and part of another. So for the first time, Felicity saw an Oliver who was pretty buzzed. And definitely very nervous, based on how he took a healthy swallow of his beer before he stood up and weaved towards the stage. 

Felicity wiggled in her chair, getting comfortable. Bracing herself a little. Because she had no idea if Oliver could sing at all. Of course, she thought his normal speaking voice was great--all warm and rich, and when his tone lowered and he looked at her with those eyes of his? That was good. That was very, very good.

But that might not mean he could actually sing. But even if he sounded like a cat whose tail was trapped underneath a rocking chair, she was going to smile and clap and be proud of her boyfriend, for challenging himself. 

When he was up on stage, Oliver looked a bit shellshocked. He took the microphone, gripping it tightly, and looked out at the crowd. “Um, hi,” he said. 

Unable to stop herself, Felicity clapped loudly. “Woo-hoo!” she called out, beaming up at Oliver. 

It helped a little? Because Oliver grinned as he met her eyes for a moment, his shoulders uncoiling just a little. And then the music began, and Felicity tilted her head to the side in surprise. Was that . . . Johnny Cash?

Oliver looked up, meeting her eyes for a moment, before he focused on the screen. “I keep a close watch on this heart of mine . . .” 

Okay, so he was . . . a bit pitchy. That was what it was when you went from being flat to sharp, right? And his tempo sometimes was a bit off. But all in all? 

He wasn’t bad. In fact, he was pretty good. 

And having her boyfriend sing a song all about longing and suppressed passion, after the year they had gone through? Having him sing, period, when he had been so nervous about doing it, but he was willing to be vulnerable like this in front of her? 

Felicity wanted to climb him like a tree. Right now. She actually had to press her thighs together, feeling her panties get soaked, as he kept singing. 

When he finished, looking around in surprise at the applause, Felicity tried to act normal. She stood up, clapping hard, and then threw her arms around him when he reached their table. But she had to tell him the truth. 

“I am so proud of you,” she whispered in his ear, pulling back to look at him. 

“Really?” he asked, sounding surprised and shy and pleased. 

Her nipples tightened and she just wanted to rub her breasts up against his chest. Instead, she settled for nodding and smiling at him. 

“I’m pretty sure I never want to do that again . . . but I’m glad I did it,” he said, taking her hand. 

“Me, too,” she said, squeezing his hand and feeling warmth spread through her. “Hey, are you ready to go?” 

His head tilted to the side, then he nodded. “Yeah, sure.” He gave her a small smile. “Before they ask you to encore and somebody hears you and whisks you away to stardom.” 

She let out a soft laugh, weaving through the tables as she followed him towards the exit. “Not likely, but it’s sweet of you to think so.” 

“I think you can do anything,” he said, glancing back at her. “I always have.” 

Oh . . . oh, this was not fair. She could not handle this. She could not sit in the Porsche and wait until they were in their motel room to tear his clothes off. 

As soon as they were out of the honkytonk, Felicity began looking around for someplace that was private enough. The car was definitely out--not with Oliver being so . . . Oliver. 

They had to walk down the street to get back to the car, and halfway there, she spotted the perfect place: a dark alley between two very tall buildings. 

Tugging hard on his hand, Felicity pulled Oliver into the darkness. 

“Felicity--?” he asked, before she pushed him against the wall. 

“Oliver, I need you,” she said, looking up at him. 

His forehead creased, and then a tiny smirk appeared on his face. “You got hot when I sang.” 

“Don’t rub it in, Queen, or I’ll change my mind about rewarding you for being so brave and vulnerable,” she said, grinning up at him. Then she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down for a kiss. 

Kissing Oliver was always good. Always amazing. But this time? With her blood chugging through her veins, with a buzz from alcohol and performing filling her up, with the darkness of the alley and the warm air caressing her skin . . . she felt like she could come apart if only he touched her.

And then his hands landed on her lower back, pressing her against him, and she was done. 

Pushing his shirt up, Felicity slid her hands over his abs, her fingers spread wide. “I love you,” she said, looking up at him. “So much--my Oliver.” 

Even in the dark, she could see something spark and flare in his eyes, and then his mouth was on hers, devouring her, his hands sliding down to cup her ass and lift her in the air.

She wrapped her legs around his waist, one hand pressing against the wall to help hold herself up, while the other hand went to the back of his head, through the strands of hair that were finally starting to get long enough for her to grip in moments like this. She brushed her nose against his, panting, their breath mingling. “Oliver . . .” she moaned. 

“Say it again,” he said, looking up at her. “Felicity--” His hands gripped her, squeezing her ass, making her roll her hips against him. 

Lightly, she brushed her lips over the shell of his ear. “My Oliver,” she whispered.

“I love you,” he said with a shudder, his voice dark and desperate, before he used all that amazing strength to move his hands under her skirt, balancing her against him as he yanked her panties off. 

Moaning, Felicity moved her hand down his torso, fumbling with his jeans. Needing to touch him, needing him inside her, needing _him_.

“Felicity, I’m yours,” he breathed out, holding her against him. 

“Oh, God,” she stuttered, feeling too much, needing him too much. She wrapped her hand around his cock, pumping him, watching as his eyes fluttered shut and he arched into her grasp. 

He used one of his hands to hold her up, his other hand moving to slide between her legs, stroking through her folds and then rubbing her clit. Before she could moan, he covered her mouth with his own. 

“You’re so wet,” he muttered against her lips. 

“All your fault,” she said, nipping his lower lip. “With the singing and the shyness . . . Oliver . . .” 

The pleased smile on his face made her grip him harder. Oliver groaned, his eyes going unfocused for a moment, before his fingers started rubbing at her. 

“Oooh . . .” Felicity sighed, rocking against his fingers. She pressed her hand harder against the brick wall, feeling the rough surface bite into her palm. 

Oliver kissed her slowly, his mouth moving against hers. In unison, he pulled his hand away as she drew him towards her center. And then, she slowly slid down on him. 

They both broke the kiss, each of them needing air. Felicity’s eyes met his, and she reached out, her hand touching his cheek. Moving her hips deliberately, rocking and letting him move in and out of her, feeling their connection grow even stronger, until she almost thought she could read his mind, although that was totally science fiction and she was usually more practical than that . . . 

But looking into Oliver’s eyes, she knew everything he was thinking and feeling and experiencing. Just like he could by looking into her eyes. 

“I love you,” she panted, gripping the back of his neck as she moved faster. Oliver’s hands held her so hard, helping her move, helping her reach her climax even as she felt him breathe faster. 

“I love you, too,” he told her, his eyes never leaving hers. He lifted her up, bringing her down hard against him.

And it was so good, and so perfect, and she just couldn’t hold back any longer. 

“Oliver!” she gasped, her voice becoming a whine as she came, her body shaking and trembling. 

He buried his face against her neck, whispering her name as his own climax burst forth, making her wrap her arms around his shoulders and hold him tightly. 

For a few endless moments, they both just existed, holding each other and breathing in and out. Felicity closed her eyes, her fingers tracing patterns on Oliver’s shoulders. 

“Mmm,” he said softly, his lips brushing against her neck. “I might rethink my ‘no more singing’ position after tonight.” 

Half-scoffing, half-giggling, she lifted her head to look at him. “You have plenty of other ways to get me to jump you.” 

“Well, I wouldn’t want to get boring,” he said, smiling at her, so relaxed and open and happy that the words ‘I love you’ just didn’t seem like enough. 

But if she started talking, started telling him everything she felt about him and about them, she would never stop. 

So she smiled and brushed a kiss over his lips. “C’mon. Let’s get outta here.” 

Nodding, he gently squeezed her one more time, before sliding out of her. LIke always, she felt that pang, the one that was loneliness and wistfulness and lust all mixed together, and she just fell in love with him all over again. 

Oliver made sure she was steady on her feet before he let go of her hips. But he wrapped his arm around her, pulling her against his side as they slowly walked out of the alley. 

“Mmm, nap, then more sex,” Felicity said, resting one hand on his abs. 

“I love dating a genius,” Oliver said softly, brushing his lips over her hair. “You have the best ideas. From karaoke to just now.” 

Felicity smiled, her cheeks going pink. It would never stop taking her by surprise, how Oliver thought so highly of her. But she loved it. She loved him. 

“So if I got us a karaoke machine--”

“Stop,” he said, looking down at her. 

His vehemence made Felicity burst into giggles, and Oliver grinned and shook his head, and for the rest of their lives, Felicity would joke about getting a karaoke machine.

But on a few very special occasions in the future, Oliver would sing to her. But even better than those special occasions were the late nights when he would oh-so-softly sing to their children.

End.


End file.
